Battlefield Hymn
by Left Eye Better
Summary: Two warriors from opposite sides reach an understanding, through words spoken on opposite sides of a wall. Neither can see the other, but sometimes just listening is enough.


Title: Battlefield Hymn

Continuity: G1

Characters: Thundercracker/Bluestreak

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mention of religion, and not too descriptive mech damage, also it's unbeta'd, but hopefully not too rough.

Summary: Two warriors meet behind the current front of a battlefield, and find understanding in something that they are both unsure of.

Word count: 1379

Prompt: Thundercracker/Bluestreak (G1 or Bayverse) - understanding

The seeker stumbled his damaged shoulder hitting the wall before his shaking hand that he'd thought he'd set out far enough to brace himself against such a collision. His fingers weakly dug into the rusting metal of the wall in front of him. His weight dragged him down. He crumpled halfway kneeling against the wall. Thundercracker bowed his helm letting the prominent frontal ridge of his helm hit the aged metal and rest there. It was about time he was allowed to rest.

Energon bled from wounds on his side, and from where one of his wings had been unnaturally twisted on its joint. His fingers felt numb and cold. Shuttering his optics he cycled air calmly. He'd been shot down. He'd crashed and tumbled across the ground and barely managed to drag himself vertical to get to this piece of cover. His vocalizer barely sounded, and his lips barely moved as his recited a very standard warrior's plea to Primus. His intakes hitched as either fuel caught in them or the signal to them had been interrupted. It was then he realized that though he'd stopped speaking the words of the battlefield hymn still reached his audials. His frame stiffened someone was near enough to hear him, and to hear his groveling to a higher power… only to join him in doing so. His optical shutters withdrew and the brightness behind them flared before fading to a dim state.

The Autobot's doorwings lay spread against the damaged wall that seemed like good cover after he'd been separated from his three mech team. He'd learned long ago once you reach a safe place to stay put and try to reestablish contact with either HQ or the team leader. He heard steps, faltering steps behind him. He didn't turn and look, the power pack on his rifle was about gone after taking one too many long distance shots. Something hit the wall behind him causing vibration to travel through his doorwings and working into a shiver that traveled through the rest of him. The battlefront had moved taking the noise with it leaving the area quiet. His hands tightened on his rifle, he had enough for one more shot at least, and if he had to he'd make it count.

He raised the pistol about to investigate what was on the other side of the cover he'd taken when he heard the soft voice of another mech. It was vocalization was deep and he recognized the words. After he'd lost everything he had tried to find who was to blame, the Decepticons had been an obvious target but they had once been all the same once with no division. They were mechs as he was. Primus was the next target of his hatred, but soon him given up on that as well, finding it fruitless to blame something he could never directly impact. In the time since then he'd tried to discover if there was a place for him among the Autobots, and over time and in trenches he'd learned the words the other mech spoke, whether or not he believed they would do anyone any good was still in doubt but out of habit he said them as well.

"Don't forsake the warrior, carry my spark, my light as you have others. Primus, if this is where I fall then I accept your choice, carry my spark, my light as you have others…" The voice cut out with a dreadful hitch. "I do not ask for your blessing for what I have done to your creations, but for forgiveness as a flawed creation that is a warrior, Primus I ask you carry my spark as well as those of my brothers in arms if they are to fall on this field we ask this of you…" Bluestreak frowned trying to remember exactly how this passage ended. He stood and shuffled to the edge of the wall. "Hey buddy, if you're alive do you remember the resp-" He caught sight of the dim red optics and the damaged limp form of the follow mech and went silent. His rifle rose automatically locking automatically for a kill shot on the impaired Seeker.

Tilting his helm ever so slightly to the sound Thundercracker attempted to focus his optics on the other mech whose torso was now visible on his side of the wall. The blue jet's hand tightened on the wall and he shuddered curling around his heavily damaged side. He could hear the sound of the other mech coming near and taking to a knee joint in front of him. The seeker hadn't realized it until the symbol was directly in his line of sight that the other was an Autobot. Gentle hands relieved him of his functional arm mounted weapon, before pushing on his shoulder prompting him to straighten marginally allowing access to the wound. "Primus is going to let me rest." He tried to deter the smaller mech with whispered words.

"Primus might be letting you, but I'm going to annoy you all the way to the pit you 'Con scumbag. Do we have an understanding?" The gunner's hands started on pinch fuel lines shut to prevent any further loss of energon, which seemed like what was going to do the flyer in.

The larger mech nodded his optical shutters falling halfway. "As well as to let our Sparks have peace with you that we could not find on Cybertron."

"What?" The Autobot had gotten caught up in the basic field treatment to listen properly.

"The response… you wanted it didn't you?" Thundercracker didn't remember being laid back on the ground, or the sky being that particular shade ever before as he was able to look up at the expanse now. Fingers brushed over his wings in a motion that was supposed to be calming but produced a shiver.

"Oh… I guess. I hope my team finds us soon." The grey colored fingers were slick with the fluorescent purple of processed energon as he straddled the winged form to get closer to the wound, before attempting to twist together what looked like matching ended of a damaged wire. Pausing in the task the younger mech looked up. "Do you really mean it when you ask for forgiveness?"

A long silence passed enough to where the Autobot leaned forward placing his hand next to the Seeker's shoulder vent trying to gage if the other had passed, though since the armor remained blue and white instead of grey it was easy to assume the other warrior had not yet passed. "I mean it. I truly mean it." The words sounded as though they had to scrape their way from his vocalizer. The Seeker's optics looked up at the sky beyond the red chevron adorned helm that partial blocked it.

Bluestreak's facial plates felt warm at having the flyer's gaze, even indirect as it was, partially focused on him. "Good. Maybe you're less scummy than what I initially assumed. Still scummy though." The gunner moved back to a kneeling position over the other. "And still going to disarm you and take the power packs from your weapons."

The blue mech chuckled at the other before replying, "Not like I'm in a position to argue. So what do Bots do to their prisoners?"

The primarily grey and black mech worked to free the remaining arm mounted weapon from the Seeker. Once it was free, the weapon was relieved of its power pack and discarded. Not changing his tone Bluestreak replied attempting humor in the situation. "Well, we interface with them until they beg for more."

"And here I was only hoping for a cold cell and minimal energon rations if I was lucky." Thundercracker shuttered his optics, and surveying the diagnostic reading his systems offered he realized that he was going to live. There would be no rest for him today. The Autobot fiddled with wires in his side making him twitch and his optics unshutter abruptly.

"Sorry, was testing to see if the connection was going to stay… you know I was kidding right?"

The Seeker shot a half joking smile over at the younger mech. "To bad, was starting to adapt to the idea, for a ground pounder you have nice winglets."


End file.
